


Killer Headaches & Kissing Coworkers

by benschwartz



Category: Mythic Quest: Raven's Banquet (TV)
Genre: Boys Kissing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mutual Pining, brad has a headache, brad wears glasses, ianpoppy siblingism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-19
Updated: 2021-01-19
Packaged: 2021-03-17 12:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,468
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28848762
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/benschwartz/pseuds/benschwartz
Summary: Ian and Poppy have been fighting all day and Brad’s headache keeps getting worse.
Relationships: Brad Bakshi & David Brittlesbee, Brad Bakshi/David Brittlesbee
Comments: 5
Kudos: 27





	Killer Headaches & Kissing Coworkers

Brad’s forehead felt like the banner the football team breaks through before every game. Poppy and Ian had been fighting over God-knows-what all day, and Brad’s skull was pounding so enthusiastically that he was dizzy and sweating. Every meeting only sent him further down his headache rabbit hole, but maybe that was just the tunnel vision. 

At first he had tried to ignore it in hopes that it would fade with a cup of coffee and a strong will. The coffee made it worse, as did his determination, so he opted for a bottle of water and some peace and quiet. David seemed too preoccupied to notice Brad rubbing his forehead and covering his eyes. Brad didn’t have the energy to care if he was showing signs of weakness, anyway, which only became more apparent the worse his head ached. 

Just as he was beginning to feel some reprieve from the ear-splitting egomaniacs, they came bursting through the door of his and David’s office, shouting unintelligibly and slapping each other’s arms away. Brad groaned as David’s voice joined the cacophony of argument, and his headache flared beyond recognition. 

Supporting himself on his desk and the wall, Brad managed to make it to the restroom to take out his contacts and put his glasses on. When he returned to their office, David was gone, along with the two most unbearable people he had ever had the displeasure of knowing. At least it was quiet, save for the distant shouts from the conference room. The second Brad sat down though, Jo came into the office and called him to the meeting they were having, and he braced himself for the distant yelling to get louder the closer he got. 

The sour look on Brad’s face was nothing new, and everyone ignored how displeased he looked to be there. Brad tried to ignore himself, too, in lieu of focusing on whatever Poppy and Ian were screaming at him. Every one of his nerves were on fire right now, and the droplets of sweat running down his back and forehead felt like tiny knives dragging deep enough to draw blood. The more they yelled, the harder his head throbbed, the hotter he got, the less he listened. Without thinking, he pulled his sweater off and ignored how faint it made him feel to move so quickly. The room fell silent. He should have done that sooner, he thought.

For the first time that day, David paid attention to the state Brad was in. A wave of guilt washed over him and pulled the sands of his stomach down into the current, and his gut twisted at the sight of his coworker. Brad’s shirt was sweat stained, his glasses askew, and his normally neat hair all pulled in every direction but one. The normally brown and lively skin was now a sickly, pallid dun, and his forehead was splotchy and red from how hard he’d been rubbing at it. 

“What?” Brad’s voice sounded foreign to his own ears, and speaking made his skull ring as if it were emptier than the moon. 

“You look like shit,” Poppy deadpanned. Brad rolled his eyes and suddenly felt more angry than he had been in his life. They expected him to give them the go ahead for whatever million dollar venture they had planned, and they didn’t even bother to realize that they were literally boiling his brain. Brad knew he looked like shit and didn’t even care because his head hurt so bad. 

Brad laughed and stood, his hands on the table as he tried to be domineering, but the shaking in his legs gave away that it was for support. “I have had the worst fucking migraine of my life because you two  _ children  _ can’t sit down and have a mature conversation. All you do is scream ‘Brad, do this! Brad, we need money!’ and I never hear a please or a thank you.” Yelling was making him light headed. “Neither does David, and all he does is herd you two like cats!” David’s face grew hot under Brad’s pointed finger. 

“Brad, I—“ Brad cut Ian off with the meanest glare he’d ever given. 

“Whatever it is, no. You can’t have the money, you can’t do whatever bullshit you want. You push David around because you know he’ll say yes, and I’m physically sick because of it. Has anyone ever told you no, Ian?” The room paused and looked expectantly to Ian, whose gaze was now fixed on the floor. Brad’s breath was heavy and short, he was panting like he’d just run up ten flights of stairs. “I’m telling you no. And I’m going home, in an  _ Uber _ , because I’m too sick to drive.” 

Without anything else, Brad grabbed his sweater and made his way towards the door, clenching his jaw to hold back the sour feeling in his throat, to ignore the ringing in his ears and the blackness in his vision. David said something—“You look green.”—but he didn’t catch it, only weakly catching himself on the man’s shoulder as he began to collapse. Brad never had the chance to hit the ground because David was holding him up, walking him out of the conference room and back to their office without a second thought. 

The moment was a blur of warmth and feeling to Brad, barely registering the way David’s hands felt like a blanket rather than hot coals. Brad let his body go limp against David’s and suddenly felt himself being picked up. The weightlessness made Brad feel better, at least, because he didn’t have to exert any energy into standing. When David laid him on the couch, the groan that left his lips was purely discomfort and not disappointment 

Within a few minutes, there was a wet washcloth on Brad’s forehead, a hand feeding him aspirin and water, and a light being turned out in their office. 

“Thanks for sticking up for me,” David spoke quietly, and Brad could have cried. From pain or relief or the feeling of being fretted after, he couldn’t decide, but he decided he didn’t have to. 

“Someone had to,” Brad mumbled. The vibrations from his chest made David realize where his hand was resting, but when he tried to move it away, Brad’s hand came to rest on top of his. “Thanks for taking care of me.”

“I didn’t think you could get sick, honestly. I thought you were a vampire.” Brad wanted to laugh but smiled instead, just enough to let David know he might be.

“I’m not sick. Just so deeply annoyed that my body is telling me to quit my job.” David knew he was joking but he couldn’t help feeling guilty. He’d been so preoccupied with handling Poppy and Ian, he’d forgotten to be a good boss to Brad as well. 

“I’m sorry. They’re impossible. I should’ve been taking better care of the situation, and you.” Brad opened one eye to look at David. He couldn’t be serious. 

“David, no one could take better care of them than you. Yes, they’re insufferable,” an understatement to Brad’s current condition, “but you’re like their understanding dad. You don’t need to take care of me, I’m a big boy.” 

David flushed. “I think actual children would be easier to handle.” A pregnant pause filled the air between them. Brad knew he wasn’t finished speaking because of the way he bit his lip. “I want to take care of you. It’s my job to make sure everyone’s happy.”

“You’re taking care of me right now.” Brad’s head still hurt, but not in a way that would affect him like before. As he sat up, he pulled the wash cloth from his head and sat it on the back of the couch. For a brief moment he wondered where David even got a wash cloth. “Your job is to make us run efficiently, not make us happy. If it’s any consolation, though, you do make me happy.”

David couldn’t tell if they were just talking about work right now. Something about the vulnerability Brad was showing made David think he was delirious, or maybe this was some sort of scheme to make David eternally indebted to him. For a moment David considered that he wouldn’t mind a lifetime of servitude towards Brad, but he couldn’t tell the motivation behind that either. 

Brad didn’t look like shit. In pain, of course, but still as beautiful as ever. The thin sheen of sweat over his skin made him glow, and the color was beginning to return to his face. From this distance, his freckles looked like a rural midwestern sky on the clearest of nights, and the scar across his nose was Orion’s Belt. There was a small hole on his earlobe that David had never noticed before, and he realized that meant Brad had once had his ear pierced. The way his eyes were drooped a little more than usual made him look sultry, and his glasses framed his dark brown eyes so well he could hang them on the wall of a museum. 

“Okay,” David barely said, still lost in the lines of Brad’s face. 

“You’re staring,” he remarked, a small smirk on his never chapped lips. David’s face was set ablaze, and he averted his gaze, pulling his sweaty hand from Brad’s chest once and for all. “I didn’t say to stop.”

David looked back, this time catching Brad’s eyes. The hand that was once atop David’s was now on his jaw, spreading wide for the pad of his thumb to stroke David’s cheek. 

“Are you going to kiss me?” David’s voice was soft and high, and Brad couldn’t help but tease. 

“Maybe.” When he tilted his head to really look at David, he noticed his headache was gone. David leaned into his touch and let his hand rest on Brad’s thigh, and though he didn’t react, Brad felt electric in his veins. “If you want me to.”

“I want you to.”

The gap didn’t close. They stayed there, their hands on the other, gazing softly and drinking in the moment. Brad’s hand inched to wrap around the back of David’s neck, mostly in his hair, and pulled him close enough to kiss, but it was David who leant forward and closed the gap between them. 

Brad’s upper lip was salty, and David’s mustache tickled his nose, but they melted into each other like plastic on the too hot pavement: slow and smoking, never the same again. David considered that he had been the sick one, sleeping at his desk and dreaming of workplace domesticity and playing nurse with the man beside him, but when Brad smiled into the kiss and gently bit at his bottom lip, David knew he couldn’t imagine something so perfect. Though he wasn’t sure he hadn’t imagined it before. 

The two men kissed slowly, in no rush to be anywhere but there, and both secretly thinking it didn’t have to end if they savored everything. It never sped up, but it deepened, and David found himself with his knees on either side of Brad’s lap, pushing him back against the arm of the couch. Their lips never broke as David unbuttoned the first three buttons of Brad’s shirt and splayed his hands on his chest, feeling the muscle flex beneath his fingers. They never broke as Brad’s hands held David’s biceps or hips, and certainly not when Brad pulled him closer with his arms around his back. David could have died right there. 

“Hey, Brad, we’re really sorry abo—oh fuck,” Poppy’s voice came from the door, and David tried to get up, but Brad held him in place, continuing to kiss him. They’d already seen enough, he wasn’t stopping. He shooed her from behind David’s back, and soon heard the door shut, along with a loud conversation between Ian and Poppy continuing down the hall. They’d go through the paperwork later. 

The first time they pulled away, David’s hair was a mess, his lips were swollen, and the dazed look in his eyes made Brad want to kiss him until he went catatonic. David looked like he was trying to contain a smile, but he had this lopsided grin spread across his whole face anyway. Even in the dark, his eyes were brighter and bluer than ever, and Brad’s freckles had seemed to rub off on his face. From here he had more than ever. 

“Are you okay?” David carded his hand through Brad’s curls, putting them back into place. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Honestly he was more worried about David, who was newly queer, apparently. 

“You almost died earlier, Brad,” David deadpanned and frowned. He’d forgotten about his headache entirely. 

“Oh. Yeah, my headache’s gone.” David’s smile returned. “Are  you  okay?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He mocked. Brad rolled his eyes. 

“I’m pretty sure I was just an awakening of some sorts, usually there’s some confusion after that.” Brad’s voice was teasing and sarcastic as ever, but David never found any bite in his words. Endearment, yes, but never malice. 

“Don’t flatter yourself. My awakening happened in 1987. Hugh Grant. I watched  _ Maurice _ and learned a lot about myself in 2 hours.” David’s blush was enough for Brad to know what he meant. “Besides, it’s rude to assume, Bradley.”

“Please, like you didnt assume anything about me.” Brad’s hand was trailing absentmindedly along David’s back as he spoke and it made him shiver. The casual intimacy made his head spin; he hadn’t been this close to someone in years. 

“I didn’t.” Brad gave him a look. “Really, I didn’t. I think I assumed so little that I wouldn’t really allow myself to look at you. Just in case.” David didn’t elaborate what he meant, and Brad didn’t want to assume. 

“In case what?” Brad’s hand stopped on the small of David’s back, and the latter averted his eyes. A faint blush tinged his cheeks when Brad smirked. 

“In case you didn’t like me looking,” David shrugged. “I think I’m prone to staring anyway.”

Brad’s fingers turned David back to look at him by his chin, and he looked like he was going to speak, but he stopped himself and pulled David in to kiss him again. They kissed for longer than either intended to, unwilling and unable to pull away, both having waited too long to taste each other. Brad kissed David the way he kissed a cup of coffee in the morning: carefully, savoring it, and needing it to function.

“Do you wanna come over tonight? I just bought a box set of _Friends_ to make fun of.” David rolled his eyes. “You can watch me instead of the TV, though,” Brad added smugly. 

“I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”


End file.
